


The Visitor

by for_the_love_of_wolves



Series: Hurt Meme Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Child Stiles Stilinski, Comatose Peter Hale, Friendship, Hospitals, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves
Summary: "One day, Stiles stumbles into hell."~ Stiles can visit other people's minds. He doesn't know why or how it happens, but it does. One day, he stumbles into Peter Hales' mind and keeps visiting. ~
Relationships: Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski
Series: Hurt Meme Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059956
Comments: 11
Kudos: 139





	The Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: "My mind is a dark place. You don't want to be there."

One day, Stiles stumbles into hell. 

“Get out,” the owner of this hell - Peter Hale, said the chart - tells him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to stumble in here,” Stiles says, taking another painful breath. It is so hot in here. Hot and sticky. Everything smells like smoke and tastes like ash. His lungs are screaming for fresh air. 

“I said, get out!” Peter yells. He also growls a little. Huh.

“I’d love to. But I don’t know how,” Stiles admits sheepishly. He always just … stumbles in and eventually is pushed out. 

Peter sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck. What exactly are you? Telepath? Empath? A combination of those?” 

Stiles blinks. “Uh …”

“You don’t know,” Peter states and huffs. “Great.” 

Stiles raises both hands. “Listen. I won’t be here forever. I always get pushed out at some point. I don’t know when or why it happens, but it does happen. Don’t worry.” 

Peter glares at him. “It’s not like I can do anything. I’m trapped here as well.” 

“I know. I read your chart.” 

Peter lifts his brows. “Wow. You don’t have any sense of privacy, do you?”

Stiles shrugs. “I am here at the hospital every day. Sometimes I get bored and sneak into rooms to hide from the nurses. I found your room and you … You were staring up at the ceiling. I waved a hand in front of your face, but you didn’t react. So I read your chart.” 

Peter sneers. “And what does it say?” 

“You should be dead. But you aren’t. You have third and fourth degree burns all over your body and your lungs should be destroyed after the amount of smoke you inhaled. Your injuries are healing faster than burns usually do,” Stiles states. He tilts his head and adds, “Are you a vampire?” 

Peter barks out a laugh. “No,” he says. “I’m not a vampire.” 

Then, his eyes flash neon blue and he grows fangs, as well as claws. Stiles watches and thinks this is pretty cool. A floaty energy surrounds Peter’s body. It’s dark and gloomy. In front of Stiles’ eyes, it morphs into the form of a giant wolf. 

“A werewolf then,” Stiles says and beams. He likes werewolves better than vampires anyway. “Cool.” 

“Aren’t you afraid?” Peter asks and tilts his head. His voice sounds a bit slurred through the fangs. 

Stiles shakes his head. “This is just in your head. Nothing here can hurt me.”

He looks at the wavering wolf and frowns. “Your wolf looks pretty angry though.” 

“He is. I am too. As soon as I can move again, I will go and search for the hunters who burned my family. I will hunt them down and I will kill them,” Peter tells him. 

Stiles understands. It is a vendetta. He sits down and crosses his legs. When he puts his hand on the floor, it comes away black with ash. 

Peter and his wolf watch him. 

“My mum is dying,” Stiles tells them. “She is in the long term ward too. I see her every day. And every day, she looks less like herself.” 

Peter’s expression softens. His fangs disappear and the wolf shrinks some. “I am sorry, sweetheart.” 

Stiles hums and draws a circle into the ash. “Do you think it would save her, if she was turned into a werewolf?” 

Peter sits opposite him. “I don’t think so. The bite is dangerous, even for people who are not sick. There is always a chance of dying, that’s why it shall never be given by force. Only as a gift.” 

Stiles shrugs. “I thought so. It was just a pretty picture. Something I soothed myself with.” He looks at Peter seriously. “I don’t want her gone.” 

Peter nods. “I know. We never want our loved ones gone. But life doesn’t care about what we want. It isn’t fair.” 

Stiles feels he is going to cry and rubs at his eyes. Peter’s wolf rumbles. He approaches Stiles and lays down, curling around him. The wolf makes sounds like he is purring. Stiles reaches out and touches the wolf, feeling like he reaches into energy. It’s angry, sad, tired and bitter energy, but there is also some light in it.

Stiles looks at Peter while touching the wolf. “Tell me more about werewolves,” he pleads. 

Peter does. 

After what could have been hours or only minutes, Stiles feels a pull in his stomach. He gets up. “I am going to be pushed out soon,” he says. “Can I come back?” 

Peter looks at him strangely. "My mind is a dark place. You don't want to be here, little one."

Stiles smiles. "It's dark but there are also light spots. I like you and your giant grumpy wolf. Please, can I come back? I don't want to stumble in without permission again."

Peter arches a brow, but eventually, he nods. “You can. Goodbye, little one.” 

“Bye, Peter. Bye wolf.” 

As soon as he said the last word, Stiles is pushed out. 

* * *

Stiles gasps when he is pushed back into his own mind, his body jerking on the chair he sits on. Like always, it is a shock, like being dipped into ice water. Stiles shakes his head and rocks back and forth, trying to ground himself. 

He looks at Peter’s lifeless body on the bed, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to strange beeping machines, like his mom. 

Peter’s body is stillness and endurance. 

Peter’s mind is fire and ash. 

This was a scary visit. But also … kind of nice. 

After telling Peter he will be back, Stiles goes back to his mum’s room. 

He sits on her bed and takes her hand, closing his eyes. 

The mind of Stiles’ mother is not hot or ashen or angry, it is … dull. There is nothing there. His mother is always kneeling on the ground, fumbling with the pieces of a puzzle. Like usually, Stiles joins her, trying to help her setting the puzzle together. 

They don’t talk much. But today, Stiles tells his mum, “I made a friend.” 

* * *

When Stiles returns to Peter’s mind, there is night and a full moon. It is not as hot and sticky as last time. 

Stiles finds Peter sitting on a tree stump and watching a bunch of playing wolves. They chase each other, their tails wagging. Their howls sound joyful. Free.

“Is that your family?” Stiles asks, joining Peter on the tree stump. 

Peter nods, not taking his eyes off the wolves. “Yeah.” 

It is a dream, Stiles realizes. He entered Peter’s mind while it’s caught in a dream. He was lucky it’s not a nightmare. 

Peter makes a soft noise when the wolves run and disappear. Stiles reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it. 

“I really like you, Stiles,” Peter says after some time. “Thank you for visiting.” 

Stiles smiles. “I like you too.” He thinks no one should have to lay in a hospital all alone. Everyone should have someone who cares. 

“Want to hear more about werewolves?” Peter asks and his lips twitch, as if they try to remember how to twist into a smile. 

“Yes, please,” Stiles agrees and leans against Peter while listening. 

Maybe, Stiles hopes, Peter will wake up one day and they can be friends in the real world too. 


End file.
